Her dark hair waved in the wind as her downward fall sped up. Eyes with colors pulled from the night sky were hazy and glazed over. Skin that looked as though the sun had once shown from beneath was pale and dust tarnished. Wings that had once been the proudest gift given to her now were singed and wrinkled. Her once gleaming sword with its intricate flora and fauna carvings was now in two pieces, its matching shield shattered and its pieces scattered into the four winds. Her battle gown of live vines and guardian furs was tattered and in need of rest to repair.
High above the clouds a war raged; the epic and clichéd battle of good and evil. Darkness descended in droves hoping to sweep light away. The dark leader had stormed the palace of light attacking all he and his horde came upon. He gave orders that all whose loyalties remain in the light be destroyed.
She fell faster to the earth her wings all but useless to her, as badly damaged as they were she could not even slow her descent. The falling pieces of her shield pelted her like meteorites adding painful gashes to her already battered form.
Rain poured down with her, the tears and blood of the fallen, her family and friends. In this battle darkness had won…
She hit the trees long before she felt the impact of ground, the reaching branches grabbed at her, wrenching her battle gown and tearing pale skin. She clung to her sword and the largest piece that remain of her shield and scabbard as she hit the ground with a deafening crash, but the sound was lost amongst the wails of thunder that shook the very skies.
The battle was fought, evil had won; good had called upon all they had, even she had answered, an angel of wilderness, life and love, battle she could do but her strengths linger elsewhere. Yes evil had won the battle, but she was not dead, the war was not over, there would be other battles, and she vowed evil would not win.
She had fallen but she was not cast out…